


Out of Body, Out of Mind

by Kantayra



Category: Dresden Files - Butcher
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-24
Updated: 2009-12-24
Packaged: 2017-10-05 05:03:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/38085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kantayra/pseuds/Kantayra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mister takes Bob to the gay-bar...a lesbian bar, that is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Out of Body, Out of Mind

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zoe](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Zoe).



Mister was out for his nightly prowl when he found himself suddenly burdened by a piggy-backer.

"Hi," Bob said. "How about we go visit the nearest sorority house?"

Mister's fur bristled in annoyance, and the small wren he'd been observing suddenly took to the air in mad flight.

"Oh," Bob saw the wren escape through Mister's eyes as well, "sorry about that."

Mister tried to give Bob the cold shoulder, which was very difficult when Bob was possessing him. However, Mister was a cat, and cats could give _anybody_ the cold shoulder, even in the direst of circumstances. Mister stalked off to find more birds to watch.

Bob, with no other choice, tagged along with him. "Come on, please?" Bob pleaded. "I finally got that grumpy old wizard to give me some recreation time. You know how he is."

Mister did, in fact, know how he was. Sometimes it took him a whole _two minutes_ after Mister sat on his face to wake up and refill Mister's food dish. It was a hard life.

Mister slunk through a hedge and spotted a bird feeder. He froze and crouched down low to the ground.

"I figure," Bob continued inside his head, "you can hunt birds anytime. But how often do I get to watch sorority pillow fights?"

Mister wasn't to be swayed. As he watched, a particularly fat robin all but collapsed onto the edge of the birdbath. Mister licked his chops.

"Or," Bob added, "if that's too far, I checked through the phonebook, and there's a hip new lesbian bar less than a mile from here. I figured you could drop me off there, and I could spend the evening in a nice lady sandwich. It wouldn't even take an hour of your time."

Mister continued to ignore him and crept through the grass toward the rotund robin. The robin merrily fluffed its feathers, oblivious to its impending doom.

And then Bob squawked out loud, "That is _not_ the sort of breast I want to spend my evening out staring at!"

The robin started and took to the air with surprising grace and speed.

"Mrowr!" Mister complained. He bemoaned his lack of tail, because this would _certainly_ be the appropriate time to thrash it about angrily.

"Come on," Bob said hopefully. "I don't want to be a pain. I just want some 'me time,' you know? I promise I'll leave you alone just as soon as you drop me off at the lesbian bar."

Mister was about to head on to the next birdbath on his route. However, Bob's words stopped him. While it was true that cats were implacable masters of the universe, sometimes compromises had to be made, if only to get away from annoying stowaways.

"Thanks, man," Bob sounded relieved. "I knew we were pals."

Mister let Bob steer him over in the direction of the very loud humans a few blocks away. There were no birds whatsoever along the route, except for a few pigeons, and Mister wouldn't go near those. He had _standards_, after all.

Mister also refused to deal with _cars_. He came to a sudden, abrupt halt, despite Bob's urging, when they arrived at a rather large asphalt plain that a whole _flock_ of cars was rushing through.

"What's up?" Bob demanded. "The bar's on the other side of the street."

Mister refused to budge.

"Don't tell me you're _still_ scared of cars?" Bob mocked. "Scaredy-cat!"

"Mrowr!" Mister protested.

"You know they'll all stop just as soon as that light turns," Bob assured him. "It's all right. I've got it covered."

Bob was such a _liar_. Like a stupid little light could ever stop a stampede of _this_ size… It was laughable. Mister turned his shoulder in the direction of the cars and began heading back home.

"Hey, hey!" Bob protested. "Look, how about you just drop me off there? See that guy? He's no hot lesbian, but I figure I can piggyback _him_ over to the bar, and then get myself a hot lesbian ride from there."

Mister considered the man for a moment. He smelled far too much like the resting car he was standing beside.

"_Please_?" Bob begged. "It's the only way you're going to get me to stop annoying you."

At that, Mister relented and headed over to the man. He proceeded to wrap himself all around the man's feet, and for some stupid reason, the man tripped and nearly fell right on top of Mister. Honestly, humans were _such_ klutzes.

"Thanks for the lift!" Bob said jauntily and hopped on over to the man.

Mister paused for a second to make sure Bob had made the jump successfully, but then Bob saluted him from inside the man, and Mister prepared to take off again.

"Hey, wait just a second," Bob said from within the man. He dug around in a fold in that strange, artificial fur humans shed so often and removed a small package.

The smell of the package caught Mister's attention immediately. He'd been about to go anyway, but he sat right down at the man's feet at that smell.

Bob opened the package to reveal half a sandwich. He pulled back the disgusting bread to reveal the meat inside. "Here you go." Bob set it down right before Mister. "Chicken."

Mister purred and wrapped himself around the man's feet again in the appreciation. At least _Bob_ had the sense not to nearly fall over.

"Well, later, Mister," Bob gave him a quick scratch behind the ears. "Places to go, lesbians to sex up! You know how it is…"

Mister didn't know how it was at _all_. Privately, he was pretty sure Bob was completely out of his mind. After all, there was _chicken_ here, whereas – as far as Mister had been able to determine – these 'lesbians' weren't edible at all. Clearly, Bob was a little slow, poor dear.

Mister gobbled up his chicken with a smack of his lips, and his stomach purred contentedly. Still, he considered, Bob was an all-right guy. Mister couldn't hate someone who traded him chicken for absolutely worthless lesbians, even if that someone _was_ an irritating energy spirit who had cost Mister a chance at that fat robin.

Satisfied with that, Mister returned to his prowl unhindered. After all, that fat robin might be back. And, if not, he could always sit on his pet human's face until the grumpy old wizard got up and fed him again.


End file.
